


Taking the Long Way Home

by saturdaychild29



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:05:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturdaychild29/pseuds/saturdaychild29
Summary: The year is 1912 and Pansy Parkinson is en route to meet her fiance Blaise Zabini in New York.  She is joined by her cousin Draco Malfoy and her best friend Hermione Granger.  Meanwhile, Fred Weasley and his new wife Angelina Johnson are traveling to America to meet up with Fred's twin George and their younger brother Ron.  Angelina's cousin Lee Jordan and Fred's best friend Oliver Wood are also along for the ride.  Beginning on April 10th, their destinies will collide aboard the RMS Titanic. It was the greatest ship the White Star line had to offer - and it was allegedly unsinkable.





	1. April 10, 1912

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be updating my other work, but this has been floating around in my head all week. Plus, the anniversary of the Titanic's sinking is coming up. So, it seemed very fitting. 
> 
> The story starts up much like the classic movie. From there, things may diverge. You may also notice that certain characters are based off of real individuals, however loosely. 
> 
> Let me know if this is worth continuing! 
> 
> I own nothing but the errors. :-)

**Oliver**

“I cannot believe you bet our tickets.”  Oliver hissed at Fred.  “You’d better know what you’re doing.”

It was mere hours before the Titanic was scheduled to set sail from Southampton and—rather than joining the long line of third-class passengers waiting to be inspected—the two were engaged in a high stakes poker game.  Fred shrugged his best friend off.  “Angie and I will need some money to start off our new life.  I’d have thought that you’d be happy for some spending money too.  Maybe you’ll meet a nice woman in America to spoil.”  He winked.

As it stood, Oliver could not believe he was going along with Fred’s latest insanity.   He glared at Fred. “Provided we even make it there.  For now, I’d suggest you focus on the game.”  Oliver advised.  “Otherwise, I’ll be the least of your worries.” 

Angelina Weasley (née Johnson) would be furious if her husband was not in the cabin that she had booked along with her cousin Lee Jordan, her husband and their friend Oliver.   Fred had assured her that, _no, he was not going to gamble_. _He simply needed to grab a pint to ease his nerves before the ship set sail._

Oliver, of course, had been shocked that Angelina had so easily allowed them to separate.  Fred had been his best mate for a long time and he’d never known the brazen redhead to be afraid of anything—except perhaps, his mother.  Molly Weasley was herself a force to be reckoned with.  The fact that Molly had already agreed to let two of her sons travel across the Atlantic was of itself surprising.  

Bill had a successful banking career and had fallen in love with a French socialite.  Charlie had joined the British military.  Percy had recently received a promotion in his engineering position.  The youngest—Ginny—had captured the heart of British celebrity Harry Potter and was to be married within the year.

Sadly, fate had not smiled equally upon all of the Weasley siblings. Fred and George had recently been laid off from their factory jobs.  Lack of a wife had made it easier for George to travel to America several months ahead of Fred.  He had taken their youngest brother, Ron—also unwed—with him.  Initially, Fred and Angelina had planned to follow immediately after the two sent word of their arrival in America.  Unfortunately, a coal strike had prevented them from coming right away.

This gap had given the family of Fred’s new wife ample time to protest their plans.  Angelina’s parents had conceded eventually, provided that her cousin Lee was willing to accompany them.  Despite Angelina and Fred’s recent marriage, Angelina’s parents had yet to completely warm to their new son-in-law. 

As for Oliver, well, Fred had been rather persuasive.  Something about _well, he couldn’t just leave Oliver to languish, even if he did have a decent-paying job_. _George had found opportunities for all of them.  Besides, America was the place of dreams and the women, oh the women!_   Oliver chuckled slightly at that recollection once he remembered how Angelina had thumped Fred for his last comment. 

Unlike the Johnsons, the Woods were more than happy for their only son to travel to America.  Then again, they privately hoped that Oliver would find an even better job, befitting his time spent at university.  And, if he happened to meet a nice girl along the way, that wouldn’t be a bad thing either. 

Angelina had been less insistent but equally sympathetic toward her husband’s friend.  Over the duration of her engagement with Fred, she’d become better acquainted with the reserved Scotsman and was keenly aware of how anxious Oliver was to leave Britain behind—even if he’d never outright admit it.  His childhood sweetheart Katie had recently received a very favorable proposal from Roger Davies, the famous lawn tennis champion. 

They’d come across each other by chance and Davies had instantly been smitten.  Oliver couldn’t blame Katie’s parents for pushing her into the relationship—nor could he blame Katie for accepting Davies’ eventual proposal.  _Roger could offer Katie much more than he ever could_ , Oliver thought sullenly as he turned his attentions back to cards, hoping desperately that Fred’s most recent boneheaded decision wouldn’t cost them dearly.

**Hermione**

 “I’m so excited.  I cannot _believe_ it’s finally here.  Although, this wood carving is rather much, don’t you think, Hermione?”  Pansy was saying as the two of them strolled arm-in-arm toward their first-class cabin.  “I heard this area of the ship is modeled after the Ritz Hotel, but really.  I find it tacky, don’t you?”  Pansy asked. 

Before Hermione had a chance to answer, Pansy breathed in exasperation as her sights settled on a couple just ahead of them.  "Ugh.  Astoria can put as much makeup on as she likes.  She’s not fooling anyone.  If she’s a day over eighteen,” Pansy began, not bothering to lower her voice.

“Pansy, be nice.”  Hermione whispered before they landed within earshot of the blushing bride and her much-older husband.  “I think she looks sophisticated.”

“Yes, if sophisticated were synonymous with gaudy and overdone.”  Pansy returned snidely.  “All that money and yet that little tart can’t seem to buy class.”

Hermione and Pansy were traveling to America.  Pansy’s fiancé Blaise was waiting in New York, eager to whisk his beloved away into the blooming socialite culture—and Pansy was ever-happy to oblige.  And, of course, Pansy couldn’t be expected to adapt to New York society alone.  So, of course, she had practically begged her best friend Hermione to come along as well.

All Hermione knew was that Pansy had claimed that she needed someone with her, lest New York become dreadfully boring.  And, having read the overwhelming accolades for this “unsinkable ship,” Hermione was not about to turn down the chance to be a part of its maiden voyage.  Her decision to accompany Pansy would have the equally beneficial outcome of separating her from her parents, who were becoming increasingly agitated about her lack of impetus to marry.

The two were joined on their travels by Pansy’s cousin, Draco.  Since neither Pansy nor Draco had siblings—and since Mr. Parkinson had recently fallen ill—Draco was expected to act as a chaperone. It was a rather open secret that Mr. Malfoy fancied Pansy’s best friend.  Yet, Hermione herself had remained blissfully unaware of this fact.

Pansy scoffed once the two were situated in their cabin and well away from prying ears.  “Hermione, you must know that I adore you, but really, you’re too generous.  You also told that insufferable twit—Lavender, was that her name?  Anyway, you told her that her hat was lovely.  That monstrosity was so tall it should have required another ticket—and it was in the most atrocious shades of pink.”

Hermione didn’t get a chance to respond as a certain blonde emerged from one of the other compartments.

“Ah, cousin.”  He began lazily.  “I thought I heard your dulcet tones.  Whose reputation are you destroying today?”  He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Pansy huffed.  “If you must know,” she stressed, “Hermione and I just saw Astoria Greengrass.  Or, I suppose Astoria Snape, as she now must be called.”

Draco fought to hide his amusement.  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”  He asked, in an effort to provoke Pansy.  As predicted, his barb worked, as they so often did.   

“Jealous!”  Pansy repeated.  “Ha! I wouldn’t be caught dead with that greasy-haired sot.”

Draco laughed.  “That greasy-haired sot is also worth about $87 million.”

Pansy gaped.  “Still.”  She walked off in a huff, explaining that she would need to freshen up before the mid-day meal.

Hermione quickly disguised her snort as a mild coughing fit.  She eyed her friend’s cousin disdainfully.  “Why do you insist on winding her up like that?”  She asked. “You know she’s looking forward to marrying Mr. Zabini.”

“And his many millions.” Draco shook his head.  “You should know best of anyone.  My cousin is many things: ambitious, cunning, intelligent” he listed other categories.  “A romantic she is not.”  _You, on the other hand,_ he thought to himself as he smiled slightly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow before gathering the things she would need to freshen up.  “Perhaps it is you who doesn’t know her as well as you think.”  She followed Pansy’s path out of the compartment, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

**Oliver**

“Hurry up, would you?”  Fred shouted as he tugged Oliver through the throngs of people who had gathered to watch the Titanic depart.

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.”  Oliver grumbled. When they finally made it to the ship, they were among the last to be inspected.  Oliver found himself strangely thankful for the large number of third class passengers who were awaiting inspection.  Otherwise, he doubted that he and Fred would have gained admittance on the ship.  He and Fred were also lucky that Oliver had wound up with a full house.  Otherwise, Lee and Angelina would have found themselves rooming with two strangers—something certain to further estrange Fred from his new in-laws.

By the time the two actually boarded the ship, it was nearly ready to depart.

Oliver found himself squinting at his ticket, barely able to read their compartment number.  “140, is it?”  He asked Fred.

“Seems like it.”  Fred followed Oliver as they pushed their way through the narrow hallways.  As they turned the corner, they nearly careened into a very angry Angelina.

“Where have you two been?”  She asked, directing most of her ire toward her husband.  Oliver looked past the angry brunette, to the identical set of bunk beds behind her.   Lee was sat on the bottom bunk furthest away, watching the transaction unfold. 

Oliver threw his stuff on the other bottom bunk and sat next to Lee on his.  “We’ve got a whole week of this to look forward, don’t we?”  He asked, groaning.  The two watched Angelina and Fred go back and forth.

Lee smirked.  “Probably, but look on the bright side, Mate.  We’re not on the receiving end of it.  Come on, it sounds like the ship is getting ready to leave.  Let’s head out to the deck and wave to all the sorry folks who didn’t get a ticket.”

“You sound rather pompous.  Are you sure your ticket doesn’t say first class?”  Oliver joked as the two headed past a still-arguing Fred and Angelina.

At this, Lee provided a dramatic interpretation of an irate first-class passenger.  “Oh, no, no.  That simply won’t _do_!  Giles, don’t you dare dent that trunk.  That’s been in the family since my great, great, grandfather was Baron of Cromwell.”

Oliver snorted.

Lee was apparently enjoying himself.  “You there!”  He pointed at Oliver as though he was hired help.  “Bring me a cigar and a glass of your finest Scotch!  There’s a good man!”

At this, Oliver was nearly doubled over in laughter.  “Stop that!”  He said between gasps.  “People are staring.”

“Let them!”  Lee pronounced as the two staggered their way toward the nearest railing.  “Tally-ho and all that!”  He called, playing up his adopted persona.

Eventually, Oliver gave up trying to convince Lee otherwise and joined in on the fun.

**Hermione**

“Look at them.  Just waving like a bunch of idiots.”  Pansy rolled her eyes as she, Hermione and Draco watched the sendoff casually from several decks above.  She eyed the second and third-class passengers below with ample amounts of disdain.

“The view would be much better without you talking.”  Draco interjected.  He was staring off, into the horizon, which promised many days at sea—many days that he planned to take full advantage of.

“You didn’t have to come up on deck with us.”  Pansy reminded him.

“Didn’t I?” Draco drawled. “I’m sure Aunt Daisy would just love to hear about me shirking my chaperone duties. Couldn’t have you two getting into trouble, could we?”  He raised his eyebrows at Hermione and Pansy.

“Please.”  Pansy scoffed. “With Hermione here?  Even when she wasn’t busy studying at Cambridge, she would never let me have any fun!”  With this, she mock pouted at her friend.

“You might benefit from her example.”  Draco reminded her, admiringly thinking about how Pansy’s friend seemed to have no trouble putting self-improvement above other, more lighthearted tasks.

According to Pansy, Hermione had fared well at Cambridge, with courses that were normally reserved for men—even if she didn’t have the degree to prove it.   Draco also knew that Hermione had plans to attend Vassar College after Pansy was married and adjusted to her new residence.  Hermione had taken great pains to remind them both.  He found himself strangely drawn to the young brunette’s ambition.  _She has no idea the effect she has on people_ , he thought to himself before returning to the subject of his cousin.

Pansy hadn’t seen the point of attending university at all.  She had scoffed at Hermione’s intent to return to college and had wondered why on Earth her friend wasn’t more attuned to finding a suitable husband. Then again, given Pansy’s limited interest in higher learning, Draco supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised about her priorities.  What he was surprised about was how his cousin and Miss Granger had remained friends all these years, despite their prominent differences.  

For her part, Hermione was not paying any attention to the bickering cousins.  Instead, her sights had settled several decks below them.  She found herself watching a dark-skinned man who was jumping up and down, much to the amusement of his friend.  When the other man turned to look up, Hermione could swear that he was staring at her.  _He was rather attractive_ , she decided as a faint blush traced itself across her face. 

She didn’t have long to think about their moment’s interaction.  Without warning, the ship gave a great lurch and she staggered back.  Draco caught her deftly and quickly set her right. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said appreciatively, as she stared at the blonde-haired man’s uncharacteristically worried expression.  His normally hard grey eyes somehow seemed softer and his embrace lingered perhaps just a touch longer than necessary. 

“Of course,” He said quietly, before turning his attentions to Pansy.

As Hermione followed his gaze, she realized that her friend had not been so lucky.  Picking herself off the deck, Pansy glared at Draco.

“Yes, thank you for the help.”  She huffed.

“Anytime,” Draco said, his usual smirk back in place.

Pansy ignored him.  “What was that, anyway?”  She wanted to know.  She steered them toward a nearby bench to gather her bearings.  

“I’m not sure.” Draco admitted. He stopped a passing crewmember.  “Excuse me, ah Mr. Creevey, is it?  Is everything okay with the ship?”  He asked.

Mr. Creevey looked a bit nervous.  “Erm, yes.  Just got a bit close for comfort is all, Sir.”

Draco narrowed his gaze.  “Explain.”  He all but commanded.  Hermione noted that Pansy’s cousin could be intimidating when he wanted to be.  She diligently fought back the urge to be impressed. 

Mr. Creevey coughed nervously, looking very much like he’d have been anywhere but where he stood currently.  “We uh, might’ve come close to hitting the City of New York a week earlier than planned.”

Hermione looked past the ship’s deck and quickly caught the man’s meaning. “Is that ship called the City of New York?”  She asked, noting how small a distance seemed to exist between the Titanic and the other liner.

“Yes, but everything’s well under control now and we don’t expect any further difficulties.”  Creevey said, before practically scurrying away.

“Well that certainly puts me at ease.”  Pansy remarked to Mr. Creevey’s retreating figure.

Draco nodded in agreement.  “Certainly, not a good start to the voyage.  Perhaps we should head inside.  I heard they’re serving a luncheon of beef steak and kidney pie.  With any luck, we’ll run into that delightful Miss Brown you mentioned earlier.  You can tell her all about how much you enjoy her hat.”  Draco finished with a smirk as Pansy glowered at him.

**Oliver**

“Did you feel that?”  Lee demanded, all hints of laughter gone from his worried expression as he and Oliver lurched backwards.

Once they had regained their balance, the two leaned over, realizing that they could make out passengers on another liner that appeared no further than two feet from their own ship.

Oliver studied the passengers on the other ship carefully.  He paled when he recognized the trademark robes of a minister.  The man was talking to a small, red-haired girl.

“Maybe we should get off in France and wait for a different ship.”  Oliver said nervously.

Lee looked at him like he was insane.  “And lose our investment?”  He asked.

“My granddad always told me that seeing a minister on the way to sea was never a good omen.  He refused to set sail anytime he passed one.”

Lee raised his eyebrow.  “Let’s say I believe this strange superstition of yours for a moment.  We’re already on the boat.  That minister is on a different boat.  It doesn’t seem like the same rules would apply.  Besides, I thought you were supposed to be the logical one.”  He eyed Oliver skeptically.

“Normally, I am.”  Oliver defended.  “It’s just one story he told me really stuck with me.  He was a career fisherman, but he used to work here and there for commercial liners.  He was scheduled to travel aboard the RMS Atlantic during its 19th voyage—but on his way to work that morning, he passed a minister and made his excuses about being unable to sail that day.  His bosses had dismissed him as a loon and suggested that maybe he reconsider his priorities.”

Lee stared at him.  “The Atlantic sank and over 500 people died.”  He said incredulously.

Oliver nodded. “It was also the only time he ever passed a minister on his way to sea.”

Lee shook his head.  “It was probably just a coincidence.”

“Maybe.”  Oliver agreed uncertainly.

Angelina and Fred chose that moment to join them.  “What’d we miss?”  Fred asked as he jovially wrapped an arm around Oliver.

“Nothing much.”  Lee started.  “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m getting hungry.”

Oliver followed them and shrugged off his uncertainties.  Instead, he tried to tell himself that his own sinking feelings were strictly due to hunger.

**Hermione**

“Stop encouraging her!  I don’t want to spend any more time than necessary with her.”  Pansy whispered to Hermione once Lavender had gotten up to converse with the young Mrs. Snape a few tables away.  “The more you talk to her, the more you encourage her and truly, she is insufferable.”

Draco had removed himself once they’d gotten settled.  He’d seen an old acquaintance—Marcus Flint, Hermione thought he’d said—and had wanted to catch up.  He was sat a table away conversing with Flint and a few other gentlemen.  He’d apparently decided that his two charges would be fine without his company for an hour or two. 

Pansy had welcomed the change, having grown tired of his lording over them like some overgrown swot.  That and she was still rather miffed about his behavior earlier.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she regarded her friend.  “I’m surprised at you, Pansy.  You know as well as anyone that people are more than what they have—or don’t have—in their wallets.”

“Shhh.”  Pansy hissed.  “Don’t say that too loudly.” 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I only meant that you are not nearly as judgmental as you would like others to think you are.”  Hermione said, dismissing her friend’s concerns easily. 

The truth of it was that Pansy and her family were not as well off as they’d been in earlier years.  No one—not even her own cousin—knew the depth of their financial woes.  Mr. Parkinson had made some particularly bad investments and his choices had come back to haunt him over the long depression in Britain that followed.  Of course, no one else could know this.  The Parkinsons came from old money and any negative rumors could tarnish their reputation.  It was certain that they would recover, but it would less certain as to how long the recovery would take.

There were only two people apart from the Parkinsons who knew of Pansy’s current situation:  her best friend, Hermione and her fiancé, Blaise.  Blaise came from money, but he’d fallen in love with Pansy honestly and did not care that her family was currently experiencing tough times—although, he’d had to reassure her of this several times.  Hermione was also from old money, but was comparably less concerned with wealth than many of their other acquaintances.  Hermione thought back to Millicent Bullstrode and Astoria’s older sister Daphne.  Both considered anyone without significant wealth as beneath them. 

“I have a reputation to uphold.”  Pansy said petulantly.

“And what reputation is that?”  Lavender Brown interjected as she sat opposite the dark-haired witch once more.

“Nothing of your concern.” Pansy said easily.

Miss Brown didn’t seem bothered by Pansy’s tone.  Instead, she turned to Hermione.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that blonde is interested in you. He keeps looking over here.”

Pansy and Hermione followed Miss Brown’s gaze.

“Draco?”  Hermione asked, surprised.

“You know his name?”  Lavender asked curiously.

“Well, of course.  He’s Pansy’s cousin set to accompany us on our trip.  He’s probably looking over here to make sure we’re getting on alright.”  Hermione said very matter-of-factly.  She noted that Pansy remained uncharacteristically silent on this topic.

Lavender seemed unconvinced.  “If you say so.”  She turned back to Pansy.  “So, the rumor mill says that you’re set to marry Blaise Zabini.”

Pansy merely nodded.  “The rumors are correct, for once.”  She said evenly, not bothering to hide her dislike of this overly-friendly woman.

“My, oh, my!” Lavender pretended to fan herself.  “Aren’t you lucky?!”  She exclaimed. “He’s one of America’s most eligible bachelors.”  She giggled, looking at Pansy.  “Well, I suppose, not anymore.”  She amended quickly.

Upon seeing Pansy’s expression, Hermione decided that a subject change was necessary.  “So, Lavender, tell us more about your plans once you get to New York?”

“Oh, yes, of course! Well, you see I’m not staying in New York.  My brother will be meeting me at the pier and we’re to head to Colorado from there.  My fiancé, Seamus, is a mining expert out west and he’s only just come up with an innovative way to maximize mining profits.”  At this, Lavender launched into a detailed explanation of her husband-to-be’s efforts.

Hermione listened politely while Pansy excused herself to get some air.

It was several moments later before they were interrupted.  “Hermione?” A familiar voice drawled behind her.

Hermione turned to see Draco behind her with the same Mr. Flint he had been conversing with earlier.  She smiled politely.  “Yes?”

“Have you and Miss—Brown, I believe?”  Draco started and Lavender affirmed that his guess was correct.  “Have you seen my dear cousin?  She seems to have wandered off.”  He narrowed his gaze at Hermione as if to suggest that Pansy’s wandering off was somehow her fault. 

Hermione scoffed.  Draco of all people should know that Pansy did what Pansy wanted, when Pansy wanted.  Yet, she said none of this.   “I believe she stepped outside for a moment to get some air.  It is rather stuffy in here, don’t you think?”  Hermione asked.

Mr. Flint laughed.  “I like her,” he said to Draco.  Draco did not appear to share his friend’s good humor, but begrudgingly, he introduced the two.  “Miss Granger, may I introduce Mr. Marcus Flint, a friend of mine from Oxford?”

Hermione nodded.

“Miss Granger is a friend of my cousin Pansy.”  Draco continued.

“Pleased to meet you.”  Marcus said as he bowed politely.

“And you as well.”  Hermione returned. 

She looked back to Draco, but his expression was unreadable.  “Perhaps, we’d best find out where Pansy has wandered off to.”  She eyed Lavender and Marcus.  “Please excuse us.”  She said as she gathered her things and walked with Draco to the decks outside.

~

“I thought we’d never get out of there.”  Draco said quietly once they were well out-of-earshot.

“I thought he was your friend?” Hermione asked questioningly.

“Oh, he is and he’s very enjoyable, when he’s not discussing the ladies he fancies.  Marcus is very capable but he tends to think overmuch of himself.”  Draco said as he picked up his pace.

Hermione struggled to follow him despite not being that much shorter.  Inwardly, she cursed her inferior shoes which slipped along the smooth deck as she walked.  


“And right now, he seems to have his eye on you.”  Draco warned nonchalantly.

Hermione shuddered.  It was something that, had she been watching Draco, she would have noticed brought him great joy.

“I appreciate your introducing the two of us, but I think I’d prefer that he find someone else to occupy his time with.”  She said.

Draco brightened considerably after that.  _I was hoping you might say that._   “Don’t worry.  Mr. Flint is also rather easily distracted."  _And I won’t let him get any ideas about you_ , he said to himself.

**Pansy**

_Ugh._ She muttered to herself.  In her efforts to escape the insufferable Miss Brown, she had managed to lose her way aboard the giant ship.  Perhaps she should have been paying more attention when Draco and Hermione had shown her the map from the luncheon area to their compartments.  As it was, she found herself to be going in circles.  Worse, she felt like she was much lower in the ship than she was supposed to be.

“Pardon me?”  A brown-haired man interrupted Pansy’s thoughts.  “You look lost.  First time on a ship?”

Pansy bit back the retort that was on the edge of her tongue.  Yes, she was lost and it wouldn’t do to fuss at a person who may be able to help her.  “Yes.  I seem to have lost track of things,” she said instead.  “I’m looking for the first-class compartments.”

At this, the man laughed.  “Sorry,” he said upon seeing Pansy’s murderous expression.  “It’s just you weren’t exaggerating about being lost.”  He gestured around him. “This is third class.”

Pansy blanched.  “What?”  She said suddenly.

He nodded patiently. “If you’d like, I can help you find your way back.”  He offered politely.

“Yes, I suppose you’d better, if you don’t mind, Mr.-” Pansy trailed off.

“Wood. Oliver Wood.”  He supplied.

Pansy smiled appreciatively.  “Thank you, Mr. Wood.”

He smiled back and carefully led her back to the first-class area.  Before Pansy could thank him again, he had disappeared.

**Hermione**

“Where have you been?”  Draco was lecturing.

“I _told_ you.  I wanted to get away from that insipid Mrs. Snape and her overbearing friend Miss Brown.”  Pansy said, exasperated.

“And then?” Draco asked before Hermione interjected.

“She told you, Draco.  She got lost.”  Hermione defended from her position on the loveseat.

“Thank you,” Pansy eyed her friend appreciatively.  “Although, I had help.  A Mr. Wood was nice enough to direct me back here.”

“Mr. Wood?” Draco asked thoughtfully.  “I’m unfamiliar with that name.”  He narrowed his eyes in realization.  “Wait, do you mean to tell me that you were in the company of a strange man for any length of time?”  He asked.

Hermione scoffed.  “Oh, come off of it, Draco. She’s back and safe. If anything, Pansy’s lucky that she ran into this Mr. Wood.”

“I would’ve found my way eventually.”  Pansy said indignantly. _Maybe_ , she said to herself.

“That’s not what I meant.”  Hermione said.  “I just meant, that there are plenty of unsavory types who might not have acted with such decorum. Besides,” she looked pointedly at Draco.  “You and I spent significant time alone together, looking for Pansy.” 

“That’s different.”  Draco pronounced. “ _We_ know each other.”

“But we’re not related.”  Hermione countered.

_Don’t I know it,_ Draco thought to himself.  “Even so.” 

At this, both women glared at him.

Once he realized that he was in no position to win the latest argument, Draco sauntered off.

**Oliver**

“Heard you were a regular knight in shining armor earlier, Ollie.”  Fred kidded, nudging his friend.  “Or, at least that’s what Angelina said.”

The two were standing on deck, waiting for the ship to leave Cherbourg.  Lee had gone back below, hoping to meet a nice French girl, or two, he had said.  Angelina had decided to take a nap before dinner and was resting in their compartment.

“Hardly.”  Oliver shrugged.  “It’s easy to get turned around in a ship like this.”

“So, perhaps a new lady friend?”  Fred waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Her engagement ring would imply no.” Oliver said, considering the matter closed.  Although, he had to admit, the woman had looked familiar.  He wasn’t sure why, as he was nearly certain that they would’ve had no occasion to meet.   He shrugged it off, still slightly upset that he hadn’t been able to talk his friends into taking a brief holiday in France.  Maybe he was being paranoid, but he just couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about the Titanic ever since the near collision only hours earlier.

“We’ll be fine.”  Fred said, reading Oliver’s thoughts.  “After all, they don’t call the Titanic unsinkable for nothing.”

For his part, Oliver hoped that his friend was right.


	2. April 11, 1912 - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience! I'm not dead, I swear! Classes are finally over for the semester and I have a bit of free time until my internship starts up next month. Anyway, I had originally intended on each day being its own chapter - but this chapter got a bit long and I was a bit antsy to post. So, here it is!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except the errors. :-)

**Hermione**

Hermione woke easily, the next morning.  She dressed quickly, as she hoped to get in a bit of light reading before starting the day.  She knew Pansy considered it dull, but she enjoyed it.  Besides, she had just gotten a new book.  Perhaps it wasn’t the best choice for a voyage across the ocean, but she couldn’t help herself. It was a bit more adventure-filled than her usual reading material.  She considered branching out even further.  One of her friends from university had recommended Wuthering Heights and another had suggested Jane Eyre.  So, she had purchased a copy of each to go along with her current reading material. 

Hermione knew that her afternoons and nights would most likely be full, but that was not to say she couldn’t have her mornings.  She found herself grateful for the tea service in the parlor suite she shared with Pansy and Draco.  She quickly fixed herself a cup and headed toward the first-class deck, book in hand.  She doubted that either Pansy or Draco would wake in the near future.  As she recalled, neither were morning people.   _Who knows, maybe you’ll run into the stranger from yesterday_ , Hermione thought before instantly pushing the thought aside.  The ship must’ve had a thousand passengers.  Running into the man who’d caught her eye before would be very unlikely, she reminded herself.  She also found herself ruminating about Pansy’s cousin – no, _Draco’s_ uncharacteristic behavior.  He’d actually seemed _nice._   This was something that Hermione had previously been unable to fathom.

**Oliver**

Down in third-class, Oliver also awoke early.  Last night, he had moved to the top bunk, above Lee after Angelina had politely asked if he could move.  The ship had yet to reach open water.  So, the ride remained choppy and generally unpleasant for the unaccustomed.  True to form, Angelina had looked a little green when making her request.  

A quick look at his friends who were splayed about their beds in various states of disarray suggested that Oliver was the only one who had slept undisturbed.  Lee was slumped over the bottom bunk beneath Oliver and snoring rather loudly.  A short distance away, Angelina seemed to be muttering in her sleep, while Fred continued to shift restlessly.

Oliver had tried not to laugh at them.  Back when they had initially booked their tickets, he had tried to warn them against booking a third-class passage.  This wasn’t Oliver’s first oceanic trip and he knew that steerage passengers often had the most difficult journey.  Sure, booking second class would have exhausted much of their savings, but the way George had told it, they would be making money again quickly.  

Besides, Oliver had some money saved up from his job and had offered to cover at least some of Fred and Angelina’s costs, if money was the main argument against second class.  Fred’s pride would not let this happen, however, and Oliver refused to purchase a ticket away from his friends.  So, here they were, on $15 tickets, enjoying the full benefits of third class.

Deciding it was no use lying awake in bed, Oliver climbed down, careful not to awaken his friends.  Instead, he changed clothes and made his way to the deck nearest to his quarters.  It wasn’t as though he had that difficult of a decision.  Higher decks were off-limits to non-first class passengers anyway.

As he walked, Oliver wondered if he’d run into the brunette who he’d sworn was watching him the other day.  Then again, maybe it had been coincidence, and she’d been looking past him.  Perhaps she too had been concerned about the near miss yesterday morning.

He didn’t have long to wonder.   As he reached the third-class decks, he found himself immediately searching.  Unbidden, his gaze settled upon the same woman from yesterday.   This time, she was alone and reading.  Occasionally, she seemed to be staring off into the distance, but what she was looking for, he didn’t know.

_What were the chances_ , he wondered to himself.  Just as quickly, his conscience took over.  _Stop staring, Oliver. You don’t want her to think you’re a lecherous creep._   

He tried to avoid staring, but he couldn’t stop occasionally glancing in her direction. Like him, she seemed to be alone.  He found himself wondering what she was thinking.  _What do you care?_ The same voice pried.  _In less than a week, you’ll be headed to George’s place while you try to find work._ _She’ll be who-knows-where._

It was true, he’d had to admit.  George had found factory jobs, but Oliver was privately hoping to put his education to good use.  He was fortunate that his great aunt had been willing to fund his education.  His parents were hardly destitute, but they would have been unable to help him attend school without additional assistance.

He wasn’t afraid of a hard day’s work, but he’d also developed an avid interest in architecture while at university. Really, he just liked sketching things that could be.  Fred had teased him when Oliver showed him his reworked interpretations of suspension bridges.  Secretly, though Oliver knew he’d been impressed. He and Fred each had their interests.  Fred’s was making people laugh.  Oliver’s was pushing the envelope of design.  He was often so serious that his best friend accused him of lacking a sense of humor.

At this, Oliver found himself looking toward the brunette again.  While lost in his thoughts, a blonde-haired man had joined the brunette several decks above.  Oliver found himself wondering who this man was to her.  Was he a cousin, a brother, a husband? At the last, he felt something in his stomach sink. _Why do you care?_ The same voice from before reiterated. _And when did she become a ‘her,’_ the voice wanted to know.  Oliver willed the voice to be quiet.  When it refused, he decided that perhaps it was time for him to wake up his friends.  They could all use a little breakfast.  Except, he couldn’t quite make himself leave just yet.

**Hermione**

“There you are.  I was wondering where you’d rushed off to this morning.”  Draco began, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts.  

Hermione looked up, gently setting her book next to her. 

Draco read the cover: Futility. He made a mental note to ask her what it was about later. 

“Did Pansy send you to get me?”  Hermione asked curiously. “I’m surprised she’s up this early.” _Maybe now she’d find out if yesterday had been a strange occurrence, or if, perhaps there was more to Draco than she’d thought previously._

Draco laughed.  “No, last I checked, Pansy was snoring away in her compartment.  As surprising as it is, I came of my own accord.”  He paused.  “Mind if I sit?”  He gestured to the spot next to Hermione.

Hermione shrugged, which Draco decided was as close to agreement as he was going to get.

“It’s very peaceful up here.” Draco remarked, as he watched the sun slowly inch above the horizon.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.  “I suppose it is.”  She said, contemplating her next words _._   “Pansy will be sorry she missed it.” Hermione said, staring at the sun as it inched its way above the skyline.

Draco laughed.  “You don’t enjoy my company then?”  He asked tentatively.

Hermione looked at his expression searchingly.  “I don’t really know you well enough to say.”  She said finally, before reopening her book.

Gently, Draco pushed her book aside.

Instantly, Hermione glared at him.

“Would you?” Draco asked.

“Would I what?”  Hermione asked, suddenly remembering the way Draco had looked at her yesterday when he’d caught her.

“Get to know me.” Internally, Draco cursed.  This was not going as well as he’d hoped.

Hermione felt his gaze on her and this time didn’t try to reclaim her book. “Oh?”  She asked, biting her lip in consternation.

Draco eyed her tentatively.  “As you know, I’m due to return to England in a months’ time, once I’ve seen to it that Pansy is married and safely situated.  But, I am considering delaying my return.”

 “And why is that?”  Hermione asked curiously.   _Perhaps, he’s finally decided to stop living off his parents’ money and do something for a change._ Instantly, Hermione chided herself.  She was being unfair.  After all, he didn’t have to agree to come with them on the Titanic.  He could have let his Aunt Bella do the honors.  Hermione had heard enough about Bellatrix Lestrange from Pansy to make her skin crawl.  With the alternative in mind, she was grateful for Draco’s company.

“I think I’d like to stay in America, at least for a little while longer.”  Draco was saying.  “Before we left, I spoke with your parents.”  Draco said.

 “I remember.”  Hermione said thoughtfully.  She recalled Draco having assured her parents that he would be a diligent chaperone.  More surprisingly, Hermione’s parents had not objected to Hermione traveling with her friend and an unmarried, unrelated male chaperone. 

“They seemed to like you.”  Hermione recalled at least a dozen veiled hints from her mother after Draco left.  Hermione reddened as she remembered her mother offering to join them on the Titanic. _Just in case you change your mind about that young man_ , she had said. _He sure seems to have taken a shine to you,_ Hermione’s mother had reiterated once the young Mr. Malfoy had departed.  Hermione, of course, had laughed it off and willed her mother to accept that, no she would not be marrying right away and if she did marry one day, it would most certainly not be to her best friend’s cousin!  If he seemed at all fond of her, it was only by order of his cousin, her best friend.

Draco released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.  He watched Hermione carefully.  “I was hoping that maybe…”  He trailed off, still nervous.  _Why was he nervous? Malfoys do not get nervous!_ He chided himself.  Lucius Malfoy would have been mortified.

“Yes?”  Hermione asked patiently, still not quite certain what was making the usually-blunt man so reluctant.

“Once we arrive, and Pansy is situated, maybe I could take you on a date?”  Draco asked.  _Yes, that was good, Draco._ _Very smooth.  She’ll be sure to say yes now._  Draco’s inner voice intoned sarcastically.

Hermione’s surprise was evident. “You what?”  She asked, well-aware of how unladylike her response was, but not caring enough to correct it.  Perhaps her mother _had_ been onto something—not that Hermione would ever tell her.  _Or maybe,_ Hermione thought, her heart sinking, _this was some sort of cruel joke._

“I asked,” Draco started again, but was abruptly cut off by Hermione, her thoughts racing a mile a minute.

“No, I heard you.  But why?”  Hermione asked, more to herself than to Draco.  She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge that Draco was attractive –but she’d never considered him an option.  How could she have?  He was Pansy’s cousin.  More to the point, if rumors were to be believed, there were plenty of young ladies vying for his attention.  Just yesterday, Hermione had received a letter from Daphne Greengrass, instructing Hermione not to pursue _her_ Draco Malfoy while aboard the Titanic.  Hermione, of course, had the showed the letter to Pansy and the two had had a good laugh.

“Why not?” Draco asked, raising a brow.

Hermione shrugged.  “I just wasn’t expecting it, is all.”

“So, does that mean you’ll consider it?”  Draco asked.

Hermione paused, “what do you get out of this?”  She asked carefully, still not fully believing that Draco Malfoy was interested in _her_.   Perhaps she’d say yes and he’d have a good laugh at her expense.

Draco started upon seeing Hermione’s doubtful expression.  Truly this was not going as planned.  “What do I? No, it’s not like that.”  He defended, immediately cursing the reputation that preceded him. 

But Draco didn’t get a chance to explain further. Instead, he and Hermione were interrupted by a frustrated Pansy who came upon them rather quickly.  “Was no one going to wake me up for breakfast then?”  She asked, eying Draco and Hermione meaningfully.

Draco shot his cousin a sharp glare, but she didn’t appear to notice.

“Sorry, Pansy.”  Hermione apologized quickly.  “I woke up earlier than expected and didn’t realize the hour had grown so late.”

“The last time I tried to wake you from a restful sleep, you nearly punched me.  Forgive me if I wasn’t willing to risk the same this morning.”  Draco said dryly.

Pansy waved him off.  “No matter.  So, should we head to breakfast?”  She asked before she caught sight of something or someone in the distance.  _How perfect could things get?_ Pansy wondered to herself. There, standing in the distance was her Mr. Wood from last night.  More importantly, she hadn’t noticed a wedding ring on _his_ finger.  If Draco wasn’t going to ask her best friend out, well, then maybe she’d have to give him some additional _inspiration_.  She grinned devilishly to herself.  _Yes_ , she decided.  _This was going to be fun_.  Pansy supposed she should feel guilty, but as they say, _no good deed goes unpunished.  Mr. Wood would just have to understand,_ Pansy decided _. Besides, who wouldn’t be interested in Hermione?_   Pansy had to admit that her stubborn friend could have her pick of suitors, should she find herself so inclined.  Pansy had certainly noticed Draco’s friend staring a bit too long yesterday. 

“Pansy?”  Hermione asked, wondering what had suddenly gotten into her friend and why she was looking a bit maniacal.

“There he is!”  Pansy said, at first so quietly that her companions barely made it out. 

Hermione and Draco stared at each other in confusion.

“There who is?”  Hermione asked finally.

“Mr. Wood!”  Pansy announced to Hermione and Draco, before turning to wave at a brown-haired man several decks below.   

Hermione sucked in her breath however when she realized just who her friend was rather uncharacteristically waving to.  It was the same man who had caught her gaze just yesterday.  She felt herself reddening.  Upon noticing his audience, the man seemed to do the same.

 “I don’t think he can hear you this high up.”  Hermione said to Pansy who was still yelling at the poor man below.  “Perhaps, we can go down there?”  She suggested.  Immediately after the words were out of her mouth, she regretted it.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and Hermione felt her blush deepening.  “We could go down for a minute and at least let Pansy thank him again.”  Hermione said, feeling strangely defensive under Draco’s inquisitive gaze.

“Wonderful!”  Pansy announced, seemingly oblivious to the moment that had just passed.  “You wouldn’t mind, would you _Draco_?”  She practically purred. “He was, after all, the one who saw me back to our cabin last night.” She finished, adopting her best pout.

Draco was less-than-pleased at the prospect.  “Oh, no.  By all means, please drag me down to third-class with you to see someone who gave you directions one time.” He said, trying to hide his irritation.

Hermione raised an eyebrow that seemed to subtly advise him to be nice.

“Alright, lead the way.”  Draco said, trying to hide his frustration.  _Of course, this would be the time that his cousin would decide to forgo her usual aloof persona and decide to be overly friendly.  And why did Hermione have to humor her all the time, anyway?_ Internally, he groaned as he followed Hermione and Pansy to the lower decks. He had a feeling that he would live to regret this.

**Oliver**

The ship was supposed to stop around 11 in Ireland.  Oliver glanced at his watch.  They had at least another hour of travel, he noted.  Suddenly, a faint voice cut through his thoughts. Cautiously, he turned slightly and looked up. 

There above him was the woman he’d helped yesterday—only now he knew why she’d looked so familiar.  He waved back rather shyly.  Then, he watched as she waved to him for a few more minutes before her very familiar friend said something.  In a matter of minutes, Oliver found himself face-to-face with the girl from yesterday, the woman he’d most certainly not spent the better part of the morning watching and her blonde-haired companion.

“Mr. Wood!” Pansy rushed up to meet him, dragging her friend with her.  “Hermione Granger, this is Mr. Oliver Wood.  It was thanks to him that I didn’t spend several hours wondering aimlessly about the ship.”  She looked at Oliver.  “I meant to thank you again, but you had disappeared before I could.”

Hermione nodded.  “Pleasure,” she said politely. 

Oliver shook his head, smiling warmly.  “Please, call me Oliver.”

“Oliver then.”  Hermione said, returning his smile.

Oliver noticed how her brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.  _Keep it together, Oliver_ , he thought to himself.

Unbeknownst to him, Hermione was having similar thoughts.  _Oliver was even more winsome_ _close up_ , she realized.  _Stop it, Hermione_ , she chastised herself.  _He’s probably taken and besides, you still have to figure out whatever is going on between you and Draco._ Now that she’d had a moment to process, Hermione realized that Draco had seemed genuine in his question—  which Hermione found surprising. To her knowledge, the man had never had a serious girlfriend and the girls he asked on the casual date were nothing like her.  She supposed she’d have to talk with him later, preferably when Pansy was out of earshot.  _Pansy would not be thrilled about this,_ Hermione decided before forcing herself to pay attention to the conversation in front of her.

“I don’t think I ever introduced myself to you, Mr. Wood.”  Pansy was saying.  “How terrible of me!”  She exclaimed in a rush.  “I’m Pansy Parkinson and the man sulking behind me is my cousin, Draco Malfoy.”

Oliver nodded.  “Nice to meet you all.”  He returned pleasantly.

“Nice to meet you as well.  Thank you for helping my cousin find her way back.”  Draco willed his voice to be less stiff than he felt. He was still upset about having his discussion with Hermione interrupted so abruptly.  His father would have just hexed the interloper already, thanks or no thanks.

“But of course.”  Oliver smiled, getting the sense that the other man would rather be anywhere but there.  He wondered if he was embarrassed by his cousin’s behavior.  _He seemed the type_ , Oliver decided.

“Hermione is my dearest friend.”  Pansy was prattling on.  “Truly, I don’t deserve her sometimes.  Too nice for her own good.  She and Draco are escorting me to New York.”

“Ah,” Oliver nodded, feeling his heart sinking as he spoke.  “So, then your cousin?”  He began tentatively.

Pansy instantly caught his meaning.  “Oh, no.”  She waved him off.  “They barely tolerate each other.”

At this, Oliver noted that Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy both faltered.

“Pansy!”  Hermione quickly admonished her friend, while fighting a dark blush that colored her cheeks.

Oliver tried not to grin.  _So, there was hope_.  He decided, feeling oddly cheered.  He didn’t notice the look of disdain that briefly flickered across Draco’s face.

“In fact,” Pansy grinned devilishly upon seeing Oliver’s eyes temporarily light up, but was cut off before she could continue.

“We were just headed to breakfast.”  Draco interrupted, silently willing this interaction to come to an end.  He also vowed to have a long discussion with his cousin later.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at Draco before brightening again.  “Would you like to join us?”  She asked Oliver.  At this, Hermione blushed and Draco looked murderous. 

_Yes, let’s please invite this Scotsman to breakfast so he can come up with some ill-conceived way to flirt with Hermione some more_ , Draco thought to himself bitterly.  Fortunately, the brunette didn’t seem to pick up on Mr. Wood’s interest.  Draco found himself very grateful for this.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Oliver started, deciding that he’d better wait for his friends, despite wanting to take Miss Parkinson up on her generous offer.

“See?”  Draco turned to his cousin.  “Thank you again.”  He said to Oliver before heading back up the steps.  He didn’t get far, however.  Just as quickly, another voice cut through the silence, causing Draco to turn around with a pained expression. What _now,_ he wondered to himself.

“Oi, Oliver!”  A dark-haired man was rushing toward the Scotsman, followed shortly by a red-haired man and a dark-haired girl.  As fate would have it, this was also the time that Oliver’s friends had managed to rouse themselves.

“Is that her?”  The red-head asked loudly.  “Don’t see a ring!” 

“Fred!”  A female voice hissed.  “Don’t be rude!”

If it were possible for Oliver to be any more mortified than he already was, well he didn’t think it was possible.  Fighting the urge to hide his face in his hands, he gestured to his companions.  “May I present my traveling companions? Fred and Angelina Weasley, and Angelina’s cousin Lee Jordan.”  He presented, finding himself strangely out-of-sorts with formalities, but hoping it would prompt Fred to do something uncharacteristic and shut up for once. No such luck.

“Oh, _that_ must be her.”  Fred was saying as he noticed Pansy’s ring.

Pansy glared at the redhead.  Whatever favor Oliver held with her, Fred did not appear to share.  “And you would be?”

“Oh, like Oliver said, I’m Fred.  I’m his best mate.”  Fred said.

Pansy’s smile tightened.  “Lovely.”  She reiterated her earlier introductions with a decidedly more clipped tone.

With Oliver’s friends in tow, Pansy no longer seemed quite as enthusiastic about sharing breakfast.

Draco snorted.  _See what you’ve gotten yourself into?_   He smirked at Pansy who ignored him.

Hermione smiled kindly at the intrusion, however.  “It’s nice to meet you.”  She said to Fred, Lee and Angelina.

Unlike her traveling companions, Oliver noted that Miss Granger seemed to mean what she said.  It made him slightly disappointed to have turned down the earlier breakfast offer.  _Don’t be stupid, Ollie.  She’s just being polite,_ his internal voice reminded him.  Looking at Draco’s dour expression, the voice continued with, _someone has to be._

Draco yawned, breaking up the silence. “Yes, well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we’d best be going to breakfast.”

“Yes, us too.  It was nice to meet you all,” Oliver said, attempting to hide his disappointment. He sensed that it was best if he and his friends left before Miss Parkinson murdered Fred with her mind.

Pansy, however, was not done.  Sure, she didn’t particularly want to dine with Oliver’s friends.  But, she had come down to third class for a reason—and it wasn’t simply to thank Oliver again.   “You know,” she said to Oliver.  “Hermione studied for a bit at Cambridge.  She’s been relentless about how structurally sound this ship is.  You said you were an engineer?”  She asked, her eyes calculating.

Oliver hadn’t remembered saying anything of the sort. He wondered if he fit some sort of stereotype that he wasn’t aware of.   He decided not to read too much into it.

Draco’s eyes narrowed, waiting for Oliver’s response. 

Once again, Oliver was oblivious to Draco’s less-than-pleased reaction.  “Yes.”  Oliver said finally.  “I used to work in an engineering firm, until Fred somehow convinced me that I wanted to go to America.  Really though, suspension bridges are-“

Pansy cut him off.  “Yes, that’s lovely.  Anyway, perhaps, you could give Hermione a tour of the ship?  I’d hate for her to end up as lost as I was the other night.”  She batted her lashes for effect.

At this, both Hermione and Draco glared at Pansy.  Hermione wasn’t sure what her friend’s game was, but she wasn’t sure she liked it.  Draco most certainly did not.

Oliver shrugged as he looked confusedly between Pansy and Hermione.  “I suppose, if you’re interested, that is, Miss Granger.  I’d be happy to.  My family has a long history with oceanic liners.  My granddad worked on several ships throughout his years—it’s part of why I warned these three that third-class was a bad decision.  Not that they listened.”  He mock-glared at his friends.  “Even so, I’m more interested in bridge designs than in shipbuilding.  So, I may not be the best company.”

“Yes, he’s a bit of a bore.” Fred added helpfully.

“Thank you, Fredrick.”  Oliver said, now actually glaring at his friend.

Draco watched the exchange with ill-disguised amusement and nearly choked when Hermione spoke up.

“I don’t think that sounds boring at all.”  She said, smiling.  “Perhaps you could give me a tour this afternoon?”  Hermione asked politely, still clinging to the hope that perhaps her friend wasn’t as shameless as she thought.  She turned to Draco and Pansy purposefully.  “I doubt I’m the only one interested.”  She nodded toward her friends.

Draco had no desire to spend any more time than necessary with Mr. Wood.  However, he didn’t savor the idea of Hermione spending time alone with Oliver either.  Draco was also comforted that she didn’t seem to view Pansy’s offer as an excuse to spend time alone with Oliver.  “I suppose that could be interesting.  You do seem to be the expert, after all.  Where did you say you went to school?”

“I didn’t.”  Oliver smiled.  “Now that you ask, I-“

He didn’t get a chance to continue as Pansy interrupted once again.  “Oh, no!  Sorry, Hermione but Draco and I couldn’t possibly join you.  I’ve that appointment that I simply cannot miss.  Draco, I’m afraid you’ll have to accompany me.”

Hermione’s confusion remained intact.  Pansy didn’t have any appointments that she knew of.

Oliver, however, didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss. “Oh, well, perhaps another day then?”  He offered kindly.

“No can do.”  Fred interjected and Pansy decided she might just like this loudmouthed redhead after all.  “We still have to review the documents George sent along and I thought we’d do that once we get out into open sea.”  _You need this. Besides, that Granger girl isn’t hard on the eyes either_ , Fred thought to himself.

Oliver shrugged.  “I suppose you’re right.” He said.

“Wonderful!”  Pansy clasped her hands together, trying to hide her glee.  “Hermione, perhaps you and Oliver can meet here after breakfast?”

Hermione sighed.  True, now that Pansy mentioned it, she was interested in seeing the ship in more detail.  She’d read about some of the features in the newspapers, but this was different.  She also had a sinking feeling that Pansy was deliberately putting her in this situation – and it wasn’t for a benevolent purpose, of that much, Hermione was sure.

She looked from Draco’s aggravated expression to Oliver’s hopeful one and sighed to herself.  She really wanted to say yes, but she also didn’t want to be a pawn in whatever game Pansy thought she was playing.  Then again, Oliver seemed nice enough and she _did_ want to see the ship.  After realizing that the others were staring at her, she finally agreed, much to the apparent relief of Pansy — and consternation of Draco.

~

**Oliver**

“Looks like you got a date! Might want to thank that Miss Parkinson – although her cousin didn’t seem too thrilled with it.”  Lee was saying as he shoveled sausages into his mouth.  “Bet he wanted to spend the afternoon with her.  Couldn’t blame him either.”  He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Oliver scratched his head perplexedly, ignoring Lee’s antics for the moment.  “I don’t think it’s a date.”  He said, fighting back the strange feeling that filled his stomach just then.  He took a sip of tea instead, trying to forget the uncomfortable exchange earlier.  He almost got the feeling that he was some sort of game between Miss Parkinson and her cousin.  At least Miss Granger had seemed interested enough.  He sighed into his tea.

“And that’s why you don’t have a girlfriend Mate.”  Fred said, ruffling Oliver’s hair good-naturedly while Angelina rolled her eyes.  “Although, you may want to keep the engineering talk to a minimum unless you want to put her to sleep.”

Oliver glared at Fred.

“Honestly, would you listen to the two of you?  Don’t pay them any mind, Oliver.”  Angelina said.  “She seems nice enough.  Besides, isn’t that the girl you were staring at yesterday?” She asked knowingly.

This time Oliver glared at Lee, who looked appropriately chastened.  “You weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?”  He defended.

Oliver sighed to himself, _with friends like mine, who needs enemies?_ This time, he glared at all three of them, although none seemed to notice or care.

“Well, go on then.  You don’t have all morning.”  Angelina noticed that Oliver had stopped eating.

“To do what?” Oliver asked blankly.

“To get ready of course!”  Angelina elaborated.

“He’s already dressed.”  Fred observed.  “What else does he have to do?”

Angelina groaned. “Heaven knows why I put up with you.”  She said to her husband as she rolled her eyes.  “You’re lucky you’re so charming.”  She said, biting rather emphatically into a bit of toast.

She didn’t have bothered.  Oliver had disappeared and Fred was back to conversing with Lee.  _Men_ , Angelina sighed, shaking her head.  She hoped as much for her sake as for Oliver’s that his afternoon with Miss Granger would be pleasant. Angelina could stand someone else to talk to besides her present lot.

~

**Hermione**

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?”  Hermione asked Draco and Pansy after the three had finished their breakfast.  She turned to Pansy.  “I still don’t remember your scheduling an appointment for today.  Are you sure it can’t be put off?”  She asked curiously.

At this, Pansy shook her head emphatically while Draco scowled.

“Draco?”  Hermione asked tentatively.

“Actually, Pansy, you can handle your _appointment_ on your own, can’t you?”  Draco started before Pansy stepped on his food. Hard.

Draco made a mental note to hide Pansy’s heels as he bit back a grimace.  “No, I suppose not.” He drawled.  “Hermione, perhaps you and I can get dinner later?  I’m sure Pansy will be much too tired from her _appointment_ to want a late meal.”  He said, glaring at his cousin.

Pansy smirked.  _So soon, but her plan was already working_.  “I suppose that would be reasonable.”  She conceded primly.

Hermione and Draco both rolled their eyes.

“Remind us again what your appointment is for?”  Draco asked nonchalantly.

Pansy shot him a rather pointed glare.  “If you _must_ know—and seeing as you’re being so insufferable about it, I suppose you must—I’ve booked an appointment with a wedding planner.

“Another one?” Hermione asked, incredulously.  “What happened to the last?”

Pansy huffed and Hermione sighed.  “Forget I asked.”  She said shaking her head.  “Let me know how it goes?”  She asked.

Pansy nodded.  “I will.  Honestly, planning a wedding is _exhausting_.”  She sighed exasperatedly.

Draco disguised his laughter as a mild coughing fit.

“Alright, then.”  Hermione said.  “If you’re sure you can’t miss it.”  She looked at them reluctantly.  Privately, Hermione suspected that she was being set-up.  If she was proven right, she and Pansy would be having a serious conversation later, if only because Pansy needed to learn at some point not to meddle in other people’s affairs.  Then again, Hermione doubted that Pansy would be thrilled to learn just _why_ Hermione was so unamused with the recent turn of events.

Draco looked like he wanted to say something, but Pansy shooed her friend along before she could.  “Go on, would you?  You’re going to make _me_ late at this rate and I’ve made this appointment _weeks_ in advance.”  She said, feigning indignation.  Or, at least Hermione thought she was feigning.  One never could be too sure with Pansy.

~

**Pansy**

Once Hermione was gone, Pansy sighed heavily.  “Goodness, I thought she’d never leave!”  She huffed.

Draco rubbed his swollen foot and narrowed his eyes at Pansy.  “So, do you mind telling me why this appointment was so important for us to miss out on the absolute _pleasure_ that is sure to be Oliver Wood’s company?”  He asked.

Pansy shrugged innocently. 

“Then there’s no appointment.”  Draco said woodenly.

“Oh, please. You knew there wasn’t.”  Pansy scoffed and poured herself another cup of tea.

Draco gritted his teeth.  “I surmised as much.  Any particular reason you felt like abandoning your best friend this afternoon?”

“Oh, there you go with your words.  I’d hardly call setting her up on a much-needed date ‘abandoning’ her.”  Pansy admonished.

“And did you ask _her_ how she felt about this?”  Draco asked carefully.

Pansy eyed him curiously.  “And since when are you interested Hermione’s affairs?”  She practically purred.  “Oh, wait.”  She paused and eyed him gleefully.

Draco raised an eyebrow and muttered something indistinguishable.

Pansy waved a hand dismissively.  “It’s your loss, really.  I told you to make your affections known or I would do it for you.” 

“Nowhere was there mention of introducing Hermione to another potential suitor in some misguided ploy to make me jealous.”  Draco said, glaring at his insufferable cousin.

Pansy shrugged.  “Who’s to say Mr. Wood is actually interested?  He seemed a bit daft to me.”  Pansy inspected her nails.  “Either way, Hermione is a lovely catch.  You’ve had months to act and yet you haven’t.  For all Hermione knows, you actually do fancy Daphne Greengrass.”

Draco narrowed his gaze.  “You know as well as I do that I detest that horrible, money-hungry woman.  She’s worse than her sister.”  He paused.  “If you must know, I was in the middle of acting when you so rudely interrupted us this morning.  Now, thanks to your meddling, she’s off gallivanting with Mr. Wood because she’s too polite to tell him no.” 

Pansy faltered. “You what?”  She looked as though someone had told her that her engagement ring was a knock-off.

“Yes, that’s right.  I actually discussed my interest this morning with Hermione.  She seemed surprised, but I never got the chance to fully explain my intentions because _someone_ just had to interrupt.” Draco said, his tone hardening.

Pansy shrunk in her seat guiltily.  “Draco, I’m so sorry.  I really thought you were still biding your time.  I thought seeing her with Mr. Wood would give you whatever impetus you needed to act.”  She said, genuinely upset.

Draco groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Pansy looked downright miserable.  “I’ll fix it.” She said quietly.

Draco waved her off.  “That won’t be necessary.  I think you’ve done enough.”  He said.  He got up and walked off, before he could say something he might regret.  He really hoped that Hermione’s tour with Oliver would be short.

~

**Hermione**

True to his word, Oliver was waiting for her when she arrived on the third-class deck.

“You’re certain that your friends don’t want to walk around the ship?”  Oliver asked once she reached him.  Angelina had insisted he changed shirts and freshen up a bit.  He’d given up trying to convince his friends that it wasn’t a date and humored them in the perhaps misguided advice they had provided.

Hermione met his puzzled gaze with one of her own.  “Pansy was rather insistent that she had an appointment. I think this will be the sixth wedding planner she’s met with.”  She shook her head.  “Why she chose today of all days, I don’t know.”

“And Draco?”  Oliver continued, watching Hermione’s face carefully.

“Was somehow roped into accompanying Pansy for her latest appointment.” Hermione finished.

“Lucky him.”  Oliver mused dryly. _Maybe that’s why Mr. Malfoy had seemed so touchy earlier,_ Oliver thought.  Unfortunately, Oliver’s remark had not gone unnoticed.  

Hermione snorted.  “It’s hard to believe the two of them haven’t killed each other yet.”  She said.

“Cousins, right?  How have they managed that?”  Oliver asked curiously.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt that this will be the first time in some time that they’ve been in close quarters for longer than a few days.”  Hermione noted.

Oliver nodded.  “Do I look like an engineer?”  He asked suddenly as the two walked along the third-class deck.

Hermione stared at him blankly.  “I’m sorry?”

Oliver faltered.  “It’s just your friend seemed to guess my background and I don’t recall having said anything about it.”

Hermione smiled.  “I wouldn’t read too much into it.  When you’ve known Pansy as long as I have, you learn not to ask questions.  She’s always been a bit scary about that sort of thing.”

Oliver shook his head.  “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”  He said lightly.

It was Hermione’s turn to shake her head.  “Somehow, I doubt you’d be able to.  You did her a favor yesterday and it seems like she’s determined to repay you.”

Oliver laughed.  “Should I be afraid?  She does seem a bit…”  He trailed off.

“Headstrong?”  Hermione supplied helpfully.

“I suppose that’s one word for it.”  Oliver admitted.

Hermione laughed.  “She’s always been that way.  She and Draco both are, which is probably why they bicker as much as they do.  If they were here, you’d probably not get a word in edgewise.”

“What about you?”  Oliver asked.

“Hmm?”  Hermione looked at him thoughtfully.

“Where do you fit in?”  Oliver clarified.

“Oh.”  Hermione shrugged.  “Pansy and I have been friends since grammar school.  We are each our own brand of stubborn.  As it would turn out, we were also the only ones who could stand one another’s company for long periods of time.”

Oliver had a hard time envisioning Hermione as someone who could be off-putting.  Then again, he supposed he barely knew the brunette who was now at least a step ahead of him.  Now, she turned to look at him.  “Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be giving me a tour?”  She teased.

“Er, right.”  Oliver faltered, but recovered quickly.  “I wasn’t sure how interested you were in the ship — or whether your friend forced your hand a bit and I didn’t want to presume.”

“Perhaps a little of both,” Hermione admitted.  “Although, I am curious about how familiar you are with the great Titanic, Mr. Wood.”  She said matter-of-factly.   “I’ve read stories about it, you see, but there haven’t been any books published about it just yet.  Only unceasing newspaper articles and the like.  I’ve heard rumor that one of the smoke stacks isn’t real at all. It’s just there to make the ship look more symmetrical.”

Oliver laughed.  “That’s not entirely true.”

Hermione quirked a brow.  “Really?”  she asked, her tone unconvinced. “So, then it’s fully functional like the others?” 

Oliver had a strange feeling that she was testing him.  “I’m sure you noticed its lack-of-smoking.  You’re right that only three are connected to the boiler rooms.  The last is used for ventilation.”

Hermione grinned slightly.  “Maybe I just wanted to see just how much you actually knew.”  Her smile widened as the two eventually made it up the steps, toward the first-class decks.

Oliver returned her smile.  “Understandable.  A lot of folks would say quite a bit to impress a pretty lass – true or not.  Myself included.”  He added, grinning. 

Hermione didn’t have a response for that. 

Oliver continued, noting Hermione’s reddened face with no small amount of pride. “Although, I’ve always had a strange fascination with ships.  No desire to design one myself, mind.  I’ll leave that to the Lupins of the world.”

Hermione nodded.  Her eyes roamed the decks until they settled on a lifeboat on one of the upper decks.  “How many people are on board, do you think?”  She asked.

Oliver shrugged.  “Two thousand, maybe more.”

“And there are enough lifeboats for everyone?”  Hermione prodded.

Oliver didn’t answer her directly.

“I’ll take that as a no.”  Hermione’s tone grew serious.

“If I remember correctly, there are 20 lifeboats aboard — enough for 1,178 people.” Oliver said.

Hermione gasped.  “And that’s considered sufficient?  I read just last week that the Titanic could accommodate up to 3,327 passengers and crew.”

“I’m not sure about the exact numbers,” Oliver admitted, “but that sounds right.”

“I don’t understand the logic.”  Hermione shook her head.  “Isn’t the point of having lifeboats to save everyone on board?”  She asked.  “How is that allowed?”  She asked incredulously.

“Actually, even with its 20, the Titanic carries more lifeboats than the White Star Line requires.”  Oliver paused.  “As for why it doesn’t carry more, I think the argument was something to do with concerns over the aesthetic.”

Hermione scoffed.  “Aesthetic or not, even the mightiest of ships sink.  The White Star Line sounds like it’s comprised entirely of nincompoops.”

Oliver shrugged. “Maybe, but I hear they’re well-paid nincompoops.”  He grinned.  “Besides, since you’re so into rumors, haven’t you heard?  The Titanic is unsinkable.”  He teased.

“Well, no ship is truly unsinkable.”  Hermione countered.  “And anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool.”

Oliver had to admit, she had him there.  _Interesting that he wasn’t the only one with apparent misgivings_.  _Or, perhaps, Hermione was just being a realist,_ he thought. “I suppose that makes Remus Lupin a right fool then?”  He asked instead.

Hermione was about to retort, but just before she could, the ship lurched forward and she felt herself stumbling.  This time, Oliver caught her and brown eyes met hers.

Looking up at Oliver, Hermione found herself feeling rather warm.  It was a different feeling from yesterday evening, but nice all the same.  _Oliver was even more attractive up close_ , she decided as she pushed her nagging conscience to the back of her mind.

“I suppose we’ve reached Ireland then.”  Hermione said, pulling herself together quickly and silently resenting her inability to keep her footing over the past day and a half.  It was as though she’d become a different person seemingly overnight. _Get it together, Hermione_ , she chastised herself.   _You still have to discuss things with Draco later_ , her inner voice reminded her. _Besides, Mr. Wood was just being polite. Just because you have one unlikely suitor doesn’t mean you’ve become irresistible overnight. If Draco was even interested_ , Hermione thought as she forced herself to pay attention to her current companion.

“Looks like it.  Want to sit for a bit?  I doubt the view is likely to change much.”  Oliver was saying as he gestured to a nearby bench.  “Although, I can promise you that Mr. Lupin is not responsible for the lifeboat shortage.  I had an apprenticeship at Harland and Wolff—but left once I realized I’d rather design bridges than boats.  If anything, he was the one most concerned with safety.  I heard once that he argued for 46 lifeboats on this ship, but was overruled by others at the company.”

“If that’s true, then I suppose they’re not _all_ nincompoops.” Hermione amended.

“Then again, you could probably ask him yourself.  He’s on the ship too.  I’m surprised you don’t know that.”  Oliver said.

Hermione shrugged.  “Pansy’s the socialite, not me.  Besides, how do _you_ know that?”

Oliver grinned. “I have my ways.”

“Full of surprises, are you Mr. Wood?”  A cold voice interjected.

“Marcus Flint, as I live and breathe.”  Oliver said, narrowing his eyes at the dark-haired intruder.  “Hermione, have you had the pleasure?”  Oliver asked, his tone signifying that he thought making the acquaintance of Marcus Flint was anything but.

Hermione nodded.  “We’ve met.  He attended school with Pansy’s cousin.”

“Well, it’s a small world then.” Oliver acknowledged.

“I take it you know each other as well.”  Hermione said slowly.

“Oxford was a very popular place, it would seem.”  Oliver said, silently willing Flint to go away.  It didn’t appear to be working. 

“Pity not all of us could afford it without additional help.”  Marcus drawled.

Oliver glared.  “Pity not all of us were smart enough to get by without paying off the dean, more like.”  He retorted.

Marcus ignored him.  “So, tell me, where will you be working in America?”  He pretended to consider for a moment.  “Or, did you manage a job at all?”

Hermione decided she’d heard enough.  “Did you have a point in interrupting?”  She asked Marcus, perhaps a bit more rudely than she’d intended.

Marcus’ eyebrows rose in surprise while Oliver fought back a loud guffaw.  “Only to make sure that this man wasn’t bothering you.”  Marcus recovered, eying Hermione appreciatively.

“Rest assured, he’s not the one bothering me at present.”  Hermione returned evenly.

Oliver smiled.  Apparently, Miss Granger wasn’t _always_ polite – meaning that she’d willingly agreed to spend time with him earlier.  He took comfort in this fact. “You were leaving?”  He asked Marcus. 

“After you.”  Marcus said evenly.  “It would appear you’ve forgotten where third-class is located.  I’m sure you’ll find it – you need only follow the rats.”  He said haughtily.

“In that case, you’d better lead.”  Oliver said casually as he stood.

Hermione laughed and Oliver winked at her once Marcus’ back was turned.

“That reminds me. Does Draco know where you are?” Marcus asked Hermione with the same snakelike drawl.

“He does.”  Hermione returned evenly.  “In fact, he would be here too if not for an appointment he and Pansy had to attend.”

“I’m surprised then.”  Marcus mused.  “Our Draco letting such a lovely lady keep such dreadful company and unchaperoned at that.  I must speak to him about this.  Seems they let just anyone on these ships after all.”  He nodded toward Oliver who didn’t bother to hide his annoyance with Marcus.

Hermione drew herself up primly, “you’ll find that Draco is not my keeper any more than you are.”   She surveyed their surroundings.  “It looks as though the ship is preparing to depart. So, if you had any interest in disembarking in Ireland, now appears to be your last chance.”

“Although, I suppose if you were desperate, you could always jump overboard.”  Oliver added helpfully.

Marcus glowered at Oliver.  His gaze lingered a touch longer on Hermione before he spun on his heel and departed in a huff.  “I’d be careful about my acquaintances, if I were you, Miss Granger.  Wouldn’t want to fall in with the wrong sort.”  He called behind him.

Oliver and Hermione exchanged a glance once Marcus was gone.

“Is he always so pleasant?”  Hermione wondered aloud.

“I think he was on his best behavior just now.”  Oliver said.  “Although, I don’t think he’s used to being dressed down so thoroughly.” He laughed.  “I pity whoever has the extreme misfortune to encounter him next.” He held out a hand.  “Shall we continue with the tour then?”

Hermione laughed. “I suppose we shall.” She said, allowing Oliver to help her up.  

Despite Mr. Flint’s intrusion, this was turning out to be a rather enjoyable afternoon, Hermione thought to herself.  Perhaps she would not chastise Pansy after all.

~


	3. April 11, 1912 - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short update. I will do my best to make up for its shortness in the next chapter. Thank you so much for your continued patience with me!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the errors. :-)

  **Draco**

It was not long after Draco finished his cigar in the lounge that Marcus Flint stormed in.  After looking around, he zeroed in on Draco. 

“Can I help you?”  Draco drawled lazily as Marcus pulled up a chair beside him. 

“More like you need someone to help you.”  Marcus spat.  He adjusted his waistcoat as he sat.

“Why might that be?”  Draco asked.

“Nevermind.”  Marcus huffed.

“Cigar?”  Draco offered.

“No. Thank you.”  Marcus said stiffly, still glaring at Draco.

“I take it your latest attempt at wooing a woman went bottoms up?”  Draco asked.

“You’re acquainted with Hermione.  Talk some sense into her, would you?”  Marcus asked as he leaned back in his chair.

_Ah_ , Draco thought, not without a little smugness. _So, Hermione had blown him off, had she?_   Draco fought back a grin as he pretended to be sympathetic.   “Marcus, I hate to tell you this, but not every woman will be sufficiently impressed with your wealth.”

Marcus scoffed.  “She’s friends with your cousin for Heaven’s sake.”

Draco narrowed his eyes.  “Your point being?”

Marcus seemed to sense that he had ventured into dangerous territory.  “Nothing, just that a girl of that caliber should appreciate another of similar breeding.”

Draco decided that arguing with Marcus wasn’t worth the effort.  “I thought you were interested in Millicent Bullstrode?”

Marcus adopted a disgusted look.  “You can’t be serious.”  He said, rather offended at the thought.  “I just said that to dissuade my parents from making any agreeable-to-them matches.  You would lie too if you saw the woman my parents had considered.”

Draco sighed.  “You should probably mention that at some point before they request that you bring her to dinner.”

Marcus shrugged.  “I’m sure I can convince Hermione that I’m a worthy suitor before that becomes an issue.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.  “On that point, I think we’ll have to disagree.”

Marcus scoffed.  “Please, between Wood and myself, it’s not even a competition.”

Draco feigned boredom.  “If you say so.  Although, it sounds to me as though she prefers his company over yours.”  He yawned and turned to yesterday’s paper which he’d brought with him for moments like this.  Hermione had only accepted Oliver’s invitation to be polite.  Of that, Draco was fairly certain—but Marcus didn’t need to know that.

Marcus glowered.   “You’re her chaperone.  Do something.”

Draco set down his paper, rather annoyed at having to read the same sentence multiple times.  “And just what would you have me do?”  He asked curiously.

“ _Talk some sense into her!_ ”  Marcus repeated.

“I’m not entirely sure you’re familiar with the definition of the word ‘chaperone.’” Draco finally said.  “My job is to watch over her, not suggest she fall into the arms of whomever so desires her affections—and believe me, if she indicates that you’re continuing to pester her, I’ll be the last person on your side, schoolmates or not.”  He finished seriously.

Marcus stood up quickly, nearly knocking over drink that a waiter had brought him mid-tirade.  “Oh, you’ll see.  By the time we reach Pier 59, you’ll have a hard time separating the two of us.”

Draco pretended to consider.  “Maybe so, maybe not.”

However, Marcus had already stormed out.

~

**Hermione**

It seemed like only moments later it was time for dinner.  During her time with Oliver, the hours had melted into minutes and she found herself rather sorry to part ways.  Despite her initial skepticism, Hermione found that she had enjoyed Oliver’s company.  His quick wit and enjoyable dialogue certainly hadn’t hurt matters.   She hoped that she’d see him again, as friends or otherwise.  She smiled to herself as she walked back toward the compartments that she shared with Pansy and Draco.

“Did you have a good time?”  Pansy asked the moment Hermione entered the common area.

“Yes, I’m sorry you couldn’t make it.”  Hermione said, matching her friend’s tone.

“Me too.”  Pansy took a sip of her tea.  “Unfortunately, I don’t believe this planner will work out either.”

“What was wrong this time?”  Hermione asked curiously.

“Oh, this and that.”  Pansy said noncommittally.

“More like her appointment fell through.”  Another voice carried from the next room.

Pansy glared at Draco as he settled at the table next to her.

“Isn’t that right, _cousin_?”  Draco asked, as if daring Pansy to disagree.

Hermione decided that her earlier instincts had been correct.   She turned to Pansy.  “You lied to me.”  She said.  It wasn’t a question.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Pansy said.  She attempted to take another sip of tea, but her teacup was now empty.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.  “I’m sure you don’t.”  She said, joining the two at the small table.  “By the way,” she looked between Draco and Pansy.  “What did you say the planner’s name was?”  She asked.

“I didn’t.”  Pansy said, refilling her teacup lest she accidentally have a repeat of earlier.

Draco seemed to pick up on Hermione’s strategy.  “Yes, that’s right.  What _was_ her name?”  He asked as he grabbed a biscuit from the tin set in the middle of the table.

Pansy glared at the two. “I didn’t catch her name.”  She said with gritted teeth.  It was a terrible lie and they all knew it.

“Mmhm.”  Hermione pretended to consider. “Strange, seeing as you had the appointment for weeks and I’ve asked around.  It doesn’t seem like any of the ladies, including Miss Brown, have heard any talk of wedding planners scheduling appointments.”  Hermione was bluffing, but with Pansy already second-guessing herself, she doubted Pansy would disbelieve it.

“Fine.”  Pansy slammed her teacup down a bit harder than she’d intended. “I didn’t have an appointment.  Now will you both just leave it alone?!”  She exclaimed before storming out of the room.

Hermione looked between Pansy’s abandoned chair and Draco.  She raised an eyebrow.  “Aren’t we the ones who should be upset by this?”  She asked, trying to break the strange silence that followed Pansy’s exit.

Draco shrugged.  “You forget.  This is Pansy’s world.  We just live in it.  Now that she’s retired to go sulk, would you like to get dinner?”  He offered.

“You don’t want to make sure she’s okay?”  Hermione asked.

Draco sighed.  “She’s fine.  This isn’t the first time she’s had to deal with the aftermath of one of her _clever ploys_ gone wrong.”

Hermione wasn’t placated.  “Even so.”  She paused.  “Despite her antics, she’s still Pansy and if you aren’t going to check on her, I probably should.”  She drew herself up tiredly and followed Pansy’s path out the door.

Draco sighed to himself and nearly put his head in his hands. _Women._   He thought to himself.   At this rate, they were never going to dinner.

~

**Oliver**

“Well, how was it?”  Fred wanted to know the minute Oliver had the misfortune to stick his head in the room they all shared.

“About like you might expect.”  Oliver said calmly.

“Ah.  So, she ditched you within the first fifteen minutes and you spent the rest of the time walking around the ship so as not to arouse our suspicions of that fact?”  Fred asked cheekily.

Angelina smacked him.  “We didn’t think that.” She said quickly.

Oliver shrugged, finding himself not particularly caring what Fred or his wife actually thought.  Besides, Fred was only trying to get a rise out of him.  “Hate to disappoint you, Freddie, but I actually just got back.  She’s very nice.”

“And?”  Fred prodded, back on the hunt.

“And, nothing.   I recommended a few books she might like and she returned the favor.”

“Sounds like a match made in the library.”  Lee chimed in, rousing from his nap.

Oliver rolled his eyes.  “Yes, because I’m quite the scholar.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mate.  Despite being a bit more of a sporting enthusiast at university, you’re pretty smart.  Plus, you would’ve bested Davies if not for that pesky injury of yours back at Oxford.”  Fred said, perhaps feeling a bit bad for his earlier comment.

Oliver bit the inside of his cheek.  _Ah, yes. His injury.  Just what he wanted to think about._   He pushed his thoughts aside and met Fred’s glance.  “Again, thanks, Fred.”  He said, his tone slightly clipped.  Then again, it wasn’t _entirely_ Fred’s fault.  After all, he’d encountered the person partially responsible for his injury earlier in the day.  “ _Marcus Flint_.”  Oliver spat bitterly.  He didn’t realize until Fred spoke that he’d said this aloud.

“Well yes, but what does Flint have to do with Hermione?”  Angelina asked, with a pointed look at Fred to at least try to be nicer.

“A lot, apparently.  Or, at least _he_ wants to.”  Oliver said, a side of him that he wasn’t aware existed coming out.

“Thought you weren’t interested?”  Fred said, grinning devilishly.

“I’m not.”  Oliver defended. “But, Hermione seems like a nice girl and I’d hate for her to get involved with that snake in the grass.” 

_It had been their last year in school and Oliver had stupidly agreed to play in an amateur doubles tournament with Flint of all people.  He knew the other man had a nasty temper, but his usual partner, Cedric Diggory was out with a sore hamstring and Flint had offered._   Oliver knew he should have been suspicious, but he thought Flint’s offer meant that perhaps the normally-sour man had turned a new leaf.  Oliver’s knee panged at the recollection.  _Apparently not.  Flint claimed that the grass was extra slippery that day, but Oliver knew the truth.  Flint had intentionally collided with him.  Despite his professions to the contrary, Flint had never cared about winning a title, only of ensuring that Oliver never would again._  Of course, Oliver’s grades had ensured that he would go on to be successful in the workforce—something Flint seemed incapable of achieving, if his lackluster work history was anything to go by.

“Sure, sure.”  Fred was saying.  “So, when are you seeing her next?”

Oliver shrugged.  “Not sure if I am.  She headed off to meet her friends, something about dinner plans with Draco this evening.”

“You dolt.”  Angelina hit Oliver this time.

Oliver eyed her, surprised.  “What was that for?”  He asked, not used to being the subject of Angelina’s ire.

“ _That’s_ why Draco was so annoyed this morning.”  She continued as though she’d solved some great mystery.

Fred and Lee appeared equally confused.  “What are you talking about?”  Lee finally asked.  “I figured he just had a stick up his arse.  Most rich types do.”  He continued.

Angelina rolled her eyes.  “Honestly.  Can’t you see?  He probably had a date with her and you interrupted whatever plans he had.”  She returned, privately wondering if men had always been so oblivious to one another, or if this was a new development.  “And you.”  She turned to Oliver.  “You just let her go on her merry way without any indication that you might like to see her again—and don’t bother lying to me.  You _do_ want to see her again, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but,” Oliver scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“But nothing.”  Angelina wagged her finger at Oliver and he felt a bit like he was back in primary school and getting lectured by an irate schoolmarm. “If you don’t give her the slightest inclination that you’re interested then today will be the last you’ll see of her.”  She warned.  “After this evening, that will be that.”  She lectured knowingly.

Oliver shrugged.  “She’s just getting dinner with her friend and Mr. Malfoy.”

Angelina’s eyes narrowed.  “Oh, is she just?”

Oliver decided he never needed to worry about Angelina being able to hold her own with Fred.  The woman was a force to be reckoned with. 

**Hermione**

The hour had grown late.  Pansy had finally calmed down enough for the three to have dinner together.   She had apologized profusely to Hermione for misleading her about her plans—and carefully hinted that should Draco have any interest in her best friend, well then, she certainly wouldn’t get in the way.

If Hermione understood correctly, Draco had taken Pansy to task earlier.  So, Hermione supposed that Draco’s conversation earlier had not been a farce after all. Now, Hermione wasn’t sure what to think about everything as she and Draco sat alone on the first-class deck.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”  Hermione said, staring up at the stars. 

Draco seemed anxious to resume their earlier conversation.  For now, he contented himself with taking an appraising look at the sky after Hermione’s comment.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Draco said, confused.  “It’s barely a sliver of a thing.  Soon, it’ll be nothing but a dim glow, if that.”  He said, following Hermione’s gaze.

Hermione shrugged.  “I suppose that’s true, but it’s still there – and, in its absence, the stars seem that much brighter.”  She added as an afterthought.

Draco cleared his throat.  “So, I heard you had a run-in with Marcus earlier.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow.  “Rather quick change of subject, isn’t it?”  She asked.

Draco shrugged.  “He seemed a bit put out when he came in the lounge earlier.”

Hermione didn’t seem bothered.  “Good.”  She said calmly.  “He seemed to think I required a babysitter.  I informed him that he was mistaken.”

Draco smiled.  “I’m sure you found he wasn’t used to that.  Then again, he rarely talks to non-gold diggers.  So, I’m not sure he ever had presence of mind to develop a personality.  It’s a pity really because he’s not exactly a looker.”

Hermione snorted. “If this how you speak of your friends, I’d hate to hear your appraisals of enemies.”

Draco shrugged.  “Acquaintances and friends are hardly the same thing.”  He reminded her.  “Speaking of irritating individuals, how was your excursion with Wood earlier?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.  “It was fine and he’s hardly irritating.  Thanks to Pansy’s little charade, you both missed out on a rather interesting tour.”

Draco quirked a brow.  “I’m sure.  So, back to this morning.”  He started.

“Draco, don’t tell me you think I’m suddenly going to fawn over you now that you’ve expressed an interest.”  Hermione said.  _See what he thinks of that,_ Hermione thought to herself.

At this, Draco actually laughed.  “Well, at least you believe me.  That’s better than this morning.”

Hermione shrugged.  “I couldn’t come up with a reasonable argument to the contrary—and believe me, I tried.”  She admitted.

“How about this?  We spend tonight talking—just talking and go from there?”  Draco proposed, appealing to Hermione’s logical side.  He was certainly not going to beg for her affection, but he wasn’t about to just let her slip through his fingers either—especially not after Pansy’s stunt earlier.  Knowing his luck, he’d now have to contend with two idiots instead of one.

Hermione shrugged.  “That seem fair.  What do you want to talk about?”  She asked curiously.

“How about the book you were reading earlier. Futility, was it?”  Draco asked as he inched closer to Hermione.

“Didn’t think you were much for reading.”  Hermione admitted.

“Then you don’t know me at all.”  Draco said without malice.  The air had grown cool and he watched as Hermione shivered.  She had been trying to hide it, but it was obvious that the light jacket she’d brought with her this evening was no match for the weather.  He shrugged off his heavy coat and tentatively draped it around her shoulders.  He was surprised when no snarky comment accompanied his action.

Instead, Hermione’s voice took on an unfamiliar tone.  “Thank you.”  She said, the faint hint of a smile tracing her lips.  “Now, about that book I’m reading.  It takes place on a ship not that different than the one we’re on presently.”  She began and Draco crept even closer, straining to hear her above the joint sounds of the ocean churning below them and the ship pressing forward ever faster.  Hermione’s voice seemed to grow even quieter as she went along and Draco privately wondered if she was doing it on purpose, testing him perhaps. 

By the time Hermione had gotten a few sentences into her explanation, Draco was practically pressed up against her, in an attempt to make out her words.  When she stopped for a breath, she met his gaze and he thought he detected a rather devilish smirk.  _Ah, so that had been her plan, hadn’t it,_ Draco thought to himself—not that he was complaining, mind.  No, he was rather enjoying their close proximity.   _Flint and Wood could eat their hearts out_ , Draco decided smugly, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and shooting Hermione a smirk of his own.

~

**Pansy**

It had grown dark and unlike her cousin, Pansy was most definitely not one for reading.  Part of her wanted to go out on deck.  Another part of her did not want to interrupt anything.  Certainly, Draco and Hermione didn’t own all of the first-class decks.   Yet, given her behavior this morning, she decided she could afford to spend an evening alone to give them their much-deserved space and avoid any possibility of inadvertently intruding.  Pansy was almost done penning a telegram to her parents when a knock came at the main door.

_Honestly,_ Pansy thought to herself, _between the two of them, not one could remember to bring a key—and they thought she was the daft one!_   Preparing a swift insult, Pansy swung open the door with a force that her guest had not anticipated.

Oliver Wood nearly collapsed in front of her, so taken aback was he.  “Miss Parkinson?”  He eked out once he had regained his footing.  “Sorry to have startled you.”

Pansy—who had nearly cried out with surprise—regained her composure quickly and forced her face into an impassive mask.  “You didn’t startle me.  I was merely expecting someone else.  To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Wood?”  She asked pleasantly.  “And, at this late hour, no less?”  She added, hoping he did not miss her meaning.

Oliver reddened.  “I’m sorry to disturb you.  I was actually looking for Miss Granger.”  He said, suddenly regretting his decision to listen to Angelina.  So far, all he’d done so far was make himself look rather desperate.  He sighed.  “She’s not here, is she?”  He asked finally.

Pansy ignored his last question.  “And why are you looking for my friend so late, pray tell?”  She asked, feeling her heart sinking as she asked.

At this, Oliver seemed to lose his nerve.  He began fumbling for words while Pansy stared at him.

“You’ve already come up here, you might as well get it out, hadn’t you?”  Pansy asked, her tone similar to the one she had directed to Fred that morning.

“I wanted to thank Hermione for a lovely afternoon.”  Oliver said finally.

“And that’s _all_ you came here for?  Surely that could’ve waited until morning.”  Pansy pressed.

Internally, Oliver groaned.  _Were all women this insistent_ , he wondered privately.  _And if so, couldn’t at least some of them direct their attentions toward someone else?_ Oliver forced himself to focus.  He tried again.  “I suppose it could have, but I was hoping to see if she might be available tomorrow.”

Alarm bells blared in Pansy’s mind. _No, no, no!_   She thought desperately.  _This couldn’t be happening_.  She clung to a last shred of hope.  “Actually, I believe we all are.  Did you have something specific in mind?  I’m sure we’d all love a chance to walk around tomorrow.”  She asked, struggling to hide her hope upon hope that she had misread the man’s intentions.  “Yes, even Draco,” she added after seeing Oliver’s doubtful expression.

“Erm.  I actually was just hoping to see Miss Granger—not that you’re not wonderful company as well.”  Oliver added hurriedly.  “I just was hoping to spend more time with her.” 

Pansy nodded slowly.  “I see.”  She mused.  The initial alarm bells in her mind had significantly intensified.  _Stay calm, Pansy_.  She ordered herself.  _You can fix this_.   “What about a group outing?”  She suggested.  “We’ve hardly gotten the chance to meet your friends and they seem delightful.”  Pansy forced herself to say.  The words left her feeling a bit nauseous, however.

Oliver stared at her curiously.  He started to say something, but thought better of it.  Privately, he wondered what Pansy was playing at.  For the time, he decided to go along.  “I suppose we could do that.”  He agreed tentatively.  “All we’ve got is a general room, but there’s shuffleboard on the second-class deck.”  He offered.  “Although, I have a feeling you would have to vouch for us third class heathens.”  Oliver said smiling.

Pansy fought back a smile of her own.  _Despite her panic, this Scot was growing on her_.  _If nothing else, the man was stubborn,_ she decided. “I suppose we can manage that.”  She said.  “Now you’d better head back before-” but she didn’t get a chance to finish.

“For heaven’s sake, Pansy.  If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, you’ve got to make sure that door is locked when we leave!”  A familiar voice lectured from the doorway. 

Oliver locked eyes with Miss Granger who remained frozen in place.

“Hermione, is something wrong?”  Another familiar voice asked worried.

“No,” Hermione started as she moved out of the way and into the compartments.  “It’s just-”

“Mr. Wood.”  Draco greeted cooly. 

“Mr. Malfoy.”  Oliver returned evenly. 

The two appeared locked in a staring contest of sorts. 

“Mr. Wood has just come to invite us all to play shuffleboard tomorrow.”  Pansy announced, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“I didn’t realize third-class passengers had access to shuffleboard,” Draco mused aloud.  His tone wasn’t unkind, merely contemplative.  He may not have liked Mr. Wood but he wasn’t about to play Flint’s game—especially not in front of Hermione.

“They don’t.”  Pansy offered.  “It was my idea.”  Internally, Pansy slumped.  _Stop making it worse, Parkinson._ She chided herself.  She may have liked Oliver well enough, but she could hardly be seen encouraging him to pursue Hermione.

“That could be fun, right Draco?”  Hermione asked smiling brightly.  “It could be the three of us against Wood and his friends?” 

Draco nodded woodenly.  He bit back a snarky retort that was on the tip of his tongue.

 “Er, it’s normally a two or four-player game.”  Wood offered.

Pansy waved him off.  “No matter. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”  She said dismissively.  “In the meantime, it’s late.”  She offered.

Oliver didn’t miss her meaning this time.  “Right you are.  Goodnight.”  He said, letting his eyes linger perhaps a touch longer than necessary on Hermione who seemed to be watching him carefully.  If she knew of his intentions, she wasn’t letting on.

“Goodnight,” Hermione and Draco intoned as Pansy escorted Oliver to the door.  

Oliver could feel Draco staring daggers at him, even after Pansy had shut the door.  He hated to admit it, but Angelina had been right.  If tonight’s exchange was any indication, he supposed that he was going to have his work cut out for him.

~


End file.
